The Mystery of the Man
by Larka's Blessing
Summary: A girl goes to the mall every day with her mother, and with her friends later in life. Everyday, there would be an old man standing in one spot, and crying. Why is the man crying, and what is the mystery of the man? Drabble/one shot. H/G character death


He just stood there, and there were tears in his eyes.

Every time when I went to the mall, and into Old Navy, I would see him. It started when I was eight. My mom took me shopping, and while she was trying her clothes on, I watched him. He looked around, and more tears would gather in his eyes. I wanted to ask him why he was sad, but my mom came back out, and we left. Four weeks later, we came back again, and he was in the same spot, and there were silent tears running down his face. Again, I went to talk to him, and again, my mom stopped me.

Fast forward eight years. I am now sixteen. I haven't been to Old Navy at the mall since the last time when I was eight. I went with my three closest friends, and we decided to go to Old Navy. I remembered the man, and wondered where he was today. We walked around and looked, but I didn't find anything. I stood outside and waited for my friends to decide what they wanted to buy. I looked around, and there he was again.

The man was still standing there. I couldn't believe he was still here! After all these years, he still came for whatever reason he had. Nothing had changed about him, and he had aged well. There were tears running down his face, and his whole face was red. He furiously scrubbed them away. My friend noisily came out of the changing room. "Come on! Let's go! We have so many more stores to go to!"

This man intrigued me, but I smiled and nodded anyway.

I became obsessed with finding out the mystery of the man. Every day I would come back to the mall to watch him, and try to work up the courage to talk to him, but I never could. I would just watch him. He was very tall, and always wore something bright red. He would always stand right in front of the changing rooms and cry. He had black hair and bright green eyes when he wasn't crying. He seemed very gentle and always just seemed like he wanted someone to talk to. I was always just too afraid to talk to him.

Every day when I came back, I would watch him and then start to talk to him, but I would talk myself out of it and go to a different store. My thoughts were always on what he could possibly be sad about, and what the connection to the store was. One day I came back, and I knew I was going to talk to him. I refused to walk away again. I walked in, and for the first time in more than eight years, he wasn't there. I sat down to wait for him, but he never came. I waited until closing time, but he never came.

I went to the mall for the next three weeks, but he never came.

One day, I decided that I would check one more time, and if he wasn't there, I would give up.

I walked into Old Navy, and he was there. I walked up to him.

_Excuse me, sir._

_Hello. _I noticed there were no tears in his eyes this time, but he still looked sad. _Can I help you with something?_

_I've noticed you have come to this exact spot every day for the past eight or more years, except for the past three weeks. You are always crying. Would you like someone to talk with about it? What connection do you have to this store? Why are you so sad? I'm not trying to be rude or anything. I am genuinely curious. _

He smiled at me. _Don't worry about it. I lost my wife ten years ago. She used to love this store when she was alive. We would come here together and I would watch her pick out clothes and stand in this exact spot while she tried on clothes. When she was done, I would buy her what she wanted, and then we would go get a pretzel together. After that, we would go home, and do it all over again the next week. Every time it would rain, we would go dancing in the rain and we would have so much fun together. I loved her so much. I come here every day to remember her, and perhaps hope that I will see her again. I know it's impossible, but I want to see her so much. I only hang on to life because I know she would want me to. I only live for her memory. I know that I will leave this life soon though. I cannot fully live life without her. I have lived long enough, and I am getting too old to visit here every day. _

_How can you know you are dying?_

_It is just a feeling that I have. I am happy, knowing I get to see her again soon._

_I hope that you will find happiness again. _

_Do you have somewhere to go?_

_No. Do you mind if I talk to you for awhile?_

_I would love the company. _

I smiled and sat down next to him. We talked for hours.

Later that day when I left, I looked back at the old man I had become friends with. I saw an angelic figure standing behind him with her hand on my friends shoulder. I waved to him, and knew two things. That had to be his wife, watching over him, loving him still, and someday, I want to love someone that much.


End file.
